


One Of Those Days

by bonestilts (orphan_account)



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Cuddles, M/M, camping out in a tent, it stops being so cold, like that thing you get when you see something super cute, ryan sux, shane is being played major time by ryan because hes a twat, shane legit just wants to squeeze ryan until he screams, thats what shane has
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:28:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bonestilts
Summary: Shane keeps forgetting Ryan is an actual living person, and it's driving him batshit crazy.





	One Of Those Days

There are days where Shane wakes up feeling relatively selfless. Going about with his usual tendencies; making himself a strong coffee, coming to his senses in the shower, most likely forgetting his keys on the way to work and having to turn around and run back for them, tripping on the seventh step on the way to his floor, again, greeting his colleagues in the office, sneaking up and flicking Ryan’s ear to make him curse. You know, the usual. 

And then there are days where Shane wakes up having completely forgotten that Ryan Steven Bergara is a real life, breathing person. A man who is solid to touch, hardness hiding under tanned, warm skin. And it drives Shane crazy. Crazy to the point that the only think Shane can even manage to focus on at work is not reaching out and grabbing Ryan’s jaw to hold his heavy head in his hands, or the plane of his back to feel the heat underneath the thin fabric of his shirt, or his shoulder to measure the broadness of it with his spindly fingers. Day in day out, Shane’s entire body is thrumming with the urge to just touch, hold, caress, _feel_ Ryan.

He finds it scary in a way, that one day he could care less about the fact that Ryan is able to produce warmth just by maintaining a heartbeat, and then another he finds himself short of breath when his mind decides to remind him that Ryan is indeed a person and is very much alive.

The reminding part tends to occur in the shower, where Shane is faced with things he had never have thought of thinking prior. One example is the fact that he, so desperately, wants to card through Ryan’s unstyled hair and leave it tousled, wants to press down on his thorax with the pads of his fingers and map out where each rib is set, wants to curl his arm around Ryan’s thigh tightly and feel the width of it, wants to trace each vein trailing down his wrist individually. He dreams of being able to recognise Ryan’s face like the back of his hand, to have the ability to feel the man’s face with his eyes closed and swear on his mother’s life that it belongs to Ryan Bergara. 

He’ll be correct, of course. Those showers generally last longer than the others.

Today was one of those days, the Ryan days. Shane thought he had succeeded with mentally preparing himself for the upcoming hours by consuming two mugs of coffee. But as soon as he arrives at his desk, immediately bombarded with Teej and Ryan demanding him to put his bags in the boot, and is hit with the realisation that Ryan’s smile is equivalent to looking into the sun, it’s clear to Shane that he probably should have had three mugs instead.

To cope, Shane continues repressing his urges and puts back on his big boy, skeptic mask.

“What spooky mansion will we have the honour of visiting this time? Do you reckon Satan will tag along? Oh! Maybe we’ll get to go to Satan’s personal eagle nest, just like the one Hitler had, except this one will be in flames and have demonic sex slaves.” 

No, of course he wasn’t even focusing on what on earth was coming out of his mouth, he had trained his eyes to glue themselves to Ryan’s face when he said this type of shit, waiting for a reaction that will no doubt cause something to bloom in Shane’s chest. 

When Ryan did burst out laughing, showing off his brilliantly wide smile that stretched across most of his face. Shane didn’t have time to laugh along with him, for TJ had already busied himself with dragging the boys downstairs and towards the staff car park.

Shane found out ten minutes into the ride that they were heading towards North America’s finest, Griffith Park, and would most likely be camping nearby to assure they have the greatest chances to catch something supernatural. It sounded like a bunch of bologna to Shane that something haunted would even happen at Griffith Park, quite a romantic place with the view of the Hollywood sign. Ryan was strong willed and Shane could never find in in himself to turn down these insane requests. 

Shane turned to look over his shoulder momentarily, surveying the messy backseats of Ryan’s car. Teej was fast asleep, head bent in a cramp-promising position, and an expensive camera rocking in his lap with every speed bump.

“So, Griffith Park? Tell me what idiocy went down over there.” Shane asked. He secretly wanted to rest his feet on the dashboard but knew damn well he would break something in his body if he tried.

“You don’t want to save the surprise for the show?” 

Shane noticed that Ryan kept his eyes on the road, “Nah, I think my acting skills are pretty satisfactory. I’ll just reenact this conversation.” He waited for the snicker and rebuttal.

“I’d hardly call them satisfactory, more like just bearable.” Although his words were insulting, Ryan’s tone said otherwise.

“As if. Mind you, I took three years of theatre in high school, I’m practically a professional.”

“The only thing you’re a professional at is being a dumbass.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.” 

Ryan laughed brightly, Shane drank the sound in like fine wine. “Okay, well, we’ll be visiting the haunted picnic chair at Griffith Park.”

Shane turned his head abruptly to stare at Ryan in disbelief, “You’re kidding. A picnic chair? How the hell can a picnic chair, of all things, be haunted? You’re driving us an hour away to hike up some hills and talk to a homeless ghost chilling at a picnic seat hoping to score a few teenagers getting some for the first time?”

Ryan chortled and flung his hand over to whack Shane in the arm, who found himself leaning into the contact, chasing after more. He watched with attentive eyes as Ryan’s hand returned to the leather steering wheel. 

“You dick! There’s no such thing as a homeless ghost, that’s so stupid.”

“Why not? Homeless people are allowed to be ghosts. That’s a bit homeless-ist of you, Ryan. Don’t tell me you’re turning into another prejudice American douche.” 

“Shut up, Shane. I’m not homeless-ist, that’s not even a real word. And was that a confession I heard? Has our fellow big foot finally admitted that ghosts are real?”

“I did not admit, I called you out for discriminating.”

Shane had to physically suppress a shiver when Ryan let out a growl, “So close. I’ll get you one day. Hey, I am surprised you were pretty spot on about the bench though,” 

“I was?”

“Yeah. The story goes that a coupe of childhood sweethearts were making out at the picnic bench and suddenly a tree fell onto the table and squashed them both, killing them.”

“Jesus, that’s a bit harsh. Mother Nature don’t like no smooching near her bush.” 

“Shane!” Ryan filled the car with his signature cackle, Shane worried TJ might wake from the loudness of it, “You’re not taking this seriously. People died, dude.” 

Shane looked over to see Ryan smiling tightly at the road out front, he would give anything for Ryan to turn his head and show him the entirety of the joy he was feelings. 

“Whatever, people die every day, no biggie. Go on,” he said.

Ryan scoffed, “Their ashes were spread around the area in memory of all lovers that died in each other’s arms, and now there’s heaps of spooky shit happening near the picnic bench. People believe their ghosts haunt the place.” 

They rode in silence for a moment whilst Shane brewed some sort of opinion, “What type of spooky shit?”

“Sure you don’t wanna leave that part for filming?”

“Come on, lay it on me.” He stopped himself from adding, 'in more ways than one'.

“There was one dude who was trying to cut down a tree nearby and reported getting really violent chills whenever he got close to it, he even said that the tree started shaking, one couple camped out close by and woke up to the words _‘leave us alone’_ written in the condensation on their tent. Some people said there was weird writing on their front windscreens, that trees start emitting moans and crying. Crazy stuff really."

Shane makes a face to himself, "Yeah, no wonder. So we're going to be camping out just like that couple?"

"Yep." Shane tried to ignore the fact that Ryan popped the 'p'.

"Maybe we'll get some writing on our tent too. I hope we get something funny, I'm relying on them to have a sense of humour at least."

"You're so weird." Ryan managed to say through giggles.

If only he knew. If only he knew how weird Shane felt when his mind created the thoughts involving Ryan he deals with on the daily. The image of waking up to Ryan's bed head tickling his nose, of having his smaller, darker body curled up against his in a striking contrast of colour. The desires of having the honour of receiving morning kisses every time he entered the office and resumed his seat next to Ryan, of having Ryan's hot hands anywhere on his body, wanting to search him with the same amount of interest Shane has for him. The need he has every few days to roughly push Ryan up against the Unsolved desk and kiss him senseless, the adrenaline he gets rushing through his blood when he actually thinks he might do it, might lean in finally and take what he's dreamt about for nights. 

It's so fucking weird and Shane is confident in the fact that he hates it with a passion.

It only took them another five minutes of driving before Shane had to reach around behind him and tug on Teej's pant leg to wake him. They stretched out their bodily stiffness and circled around the car to get their equipment out of the boot. Ryan's phone said that it would only take around twenty minutes of walking through the park until they'd reach the observation site that overlooked the Hollywood sign, although Shane believed it to be more like 40 minutes. Especially considering Ryan's tiny legs.

The site immediately gave Ryan weird vibes, despite it being in broad daylight. He said he felt it through his fingertips, which naturally triggered Shane's train of thought to majority derail itself and start thinking about what parts of Ryan he could feel with his fingertips. They decided to set up their tent now and leave them on site while they leave for lunch. TJ was the real pro when it came to constructing a tent.

"And where the hell does this thing go? This should be a flag pole instead. Can we make a flagpole? I'd like to see the ghosts shake the shit out of that!" Shane held up a long metal pole and waved it around, TJ yelled at him for not only being a jackass, but also a hazard. It made Ryan laugh and at this point in Shane's life, that was the only thing that mattered.

They went to a nearby deli for lunch and bought the essentials, then decided to return to the observation site and perch themselves on that one rock everyone sits on in pictures of Griffith Park. The sun caused the enormous letters to cast a shadow on the shrub behind it and Shane felt jealous that they didn't have to be stuck under the beating sun, sweating their balls off. Shane went for the pastrami and blue cheese, Ryan had revolted at the thought of eating mouldy cheese and decided for the Italian prosciutto. Either-or, both of their sandwiches were already soggy from the humidity by the time they were sitting and neither of them even felt like eating anymore.

The setting struck Shane as romantic, but he didn't let himself expand on that thought any further. 

They finished up filming with TJ far too early in the morning. They didn't get many readings on any ghosts telling them to fuck off, but Shane has a strong feeling Ryan will somehow pick through it when they're back at the office and find more content. Shane had rested his hand on many trees around the area and demanding them to start shaking, as if to his surprise, none of them did. Shane had even been hit with a burst of confidence and proposed a make-out session with Ryan.

"You said they were making out at this bench, right?"

"Right."

"Then maybe we should try it out, see if we get a tree thrown at us too. Even better, what if they're homophobic and throw two trees?" Ryan had bursted into laughter, slapping his knee and making Shane chuckle along with him. "Time to pucker up, Bergara!"

"Shut up, Shane!" 

After that Ryan swore to the two of them that he saw a flash of something go by his peripheral vision when Shane was leaning against the mossy picnic table, but they'd have to wait until they got back to go over the footage. TJ's phone ran out of battery half way through the show and Ryan forcefully made him take his to use once they'd wrapped up, Ryan made sure he had a flashlight on the way back to the car.

"Don't want you tripping on a ghost raccoon." He had said, which Shane distinctively remembers laughing very hard at.

Teej had scored the golden card and got to sleep in the backseat of Ryan's car whilst Shane had to bend his legs awkwardly so that he fit inside the worm-smelling tent. Ryan was to his left, his arms were both out of his sleeping bag so that he could hold up Shane's phone to record. Shane was on his side so that he could face Ryan, he wanted to be able to see him before he slept, no matter how creepy it felt. Shane had already unzipped the end of his own sleeping bag so that his feet could poke through. He was wearing socks but it was no where nearly enough to keep the cold air from seeping through the material and tickling his toes.

"By this rate, the ghosts will be able to write _'shut up'_ with the condensation _inside_ the tent."

Ryan huffed back, "What rate? Huh?"

"I just mean that you're breathing so heavily, man. It should be foggy as fuck in here, it's a surprised that you're not making us any warmer, either."

Ryan shifts around, filling the silence with rustling. "Uh, sorry. It's so uncomfortable in here and I'm freezing my tits off, I should have brought a space heater, not to mention—"

"Are you scared?"

Ryan stops moving and Shane releases the breath he was holding, quietly. The flashlight on Shane's phone is shining from below Ryan's chin, catching in his eyes to reveal their true molten brown colouring. Shane wants to take the phone and inspect Ryan's eyes thoroughly, but that would most likely blind him.

"No, I'm not." Shane waits for it, "Yeah, yes, you're right, I am so fucking scared." 

Shane laughs, "What of this time? It's not like we're in a room, we're safe in the tent, you don't even have to look at any shadows."

"That's exactly why I'm scared," Ryan lifts his hand to motion at the tent walls, "I can't see shit! I've got no idea what could be coming for us tonight. There could be a tree beginning to fall on us any second now, we have no bloody idea."

"That's why we have ears, Ryan."

Ryan made a noise that Shane forced himself not to replay in his mind, "I don't want to hear things either, that just makes everything worse." he groans, "And I need to pee so bad."

"No wonder you're so cold. Your body is focused on not pissing yourself instead of keeping you warm. Go pee, I'll be here."

Shane meets Ryan's eyes, "No way am I going out there. Did you see how dark it was before we came in? That's demon territory now, they can have it until morning."

Shane rolls over, cutting Ryan off from viewing his face with his shoulder. He only does this for dramatic effect, making his point. He kicks his legs around to make the movement easier and ends up resting his socked feet on top of Ryan's feet, over his orange sleeping bag. He doesn't feel Ryan stiffen or begin to retort, so he takes a massive leap of faith and leaves them there. "Go ahead, but be warned, you'll never get warm."

"Why not? Why can't I just force it to go away?"

"It's a down sleeping bag, Ryan. It's trying to reflect your heat back into you but the only thing it can reflect is the heat of your full bladder."

There's a rustle outside and suddenly Ryan is right by Shane's side. The taller man wasn't even sure it was possible for them to be any closer, but he was damn wrong because Ryan is basically on top of him. The flashlight is knocked away and lies face down, only casting a barely visible glow in the form of a ring on the tents floor. The space is drenched in darkness and finally Shane does understand what Ryan meant by it being dark outside, he can't see a single thing. 

Ryan's arms are curled up by his chest, Shane can feel them on his arm from inside the sleeping bag. The shorter man's breath hits Shane on the side of the neck and then it all comes crashing back down on him like a massive wave. The urges, the want, the need to reach out and take, to clasp. Shane feels uncomfortable with how close Ryan is to him, he doesn't trust himself to behave appropriately anymore. He'd been maintaining himself so well that day, he felt disappointed in himself for letting it all fall loose this easily.

"Are you— uhm, are you okay now?" Shane asks after a moment of them lying there. So very closely. Ryan turned his head, taking the breath away from Shane's tense neck, he nodded and although Shane couldn't actually see it, he heard the short movement.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." 

His voice was too close to Shane's ear, he could hear the gravel to it deep in his throat. It resulted in Shane having to close his eyes tightly, pretending to himself that he was imagining being elsewhere, when really he was relishing in the fact that Ryan's body was pressed flush against his side. It was both a dream and a nightmare. 

Shane gave him time to roll off of his side, but Ryan didn't move. Why didn't Ryan move? He was beginning to feel Ryan's bodily heat spreading through the material between them and continued to absolutely lose his mind. The lingering thoughts and desires of the past few months were clouding Shane's head entirely, muffling anything else, anything logical. Shane was older than Ryan, he expected himself to have more experience when it came to best friends continuing to press up against each other in a secluded tent, he expected to know what signals were being set off with that action, to know what he was supposed to do next. But he didn't, of course he didn't. 

So he took the biggest risk he had ever thought up in his entire life, and moved carefully within his sleeping bag. He felt Ryan go tense for a moment whilst his hands searched for the zipper inside, pulling it down agonisingly slowly. Shane felt his insides tighten with cringe when the sound of opening his bag seemed to rebound off every surface within the tent. There really was no going back now. 

Ryan tilted his body back a bit, as if giving Shane the room to fully zip down and open it up, which he did. Shane shimmied around so that he was now lying on his side and had his back was tight against the other side of his sleeping bag, he held the two flaps open with seperate hands in the most welcoming way possible. He wasn't even sure Ryan could see him. 

Willing his voice to not come out broken or choked, he spoke into the staticky air. 

"Here."

The pause of movement was unbearable. It left time for Shane to rethink his train of thought entirely and completely regret what he was suggesting. He almost closed up the gap again, ready to apologise and sulk in the corner before daylight washed over the tent, before Ryan was heard quickly unzipping his own sleeping bag. Shane almost laughed with giddiness, and nerves. 

Ryan slid out of his bag and dragged himself closer to Shane, breaching the pool of warmth Shane had created in the time they had stopped filming. Ryan pulled himself steadily towards Shane and grabbed onto the front of his shirt with both hands, as if willing him to get comfortable again and not lay rigid like a stick. Shane did relax eventually, even allowed himself to slip a thigh between Ryan's quivering legs and rest his head on pillowy flesh of his bent arm.

"This okay?"

Shane thought he'd asked, but when no reply came for a solid minute and he felt Ryan begin to tug himself away, he realised that Ryan was the one who said it. He was quick to reassure.

"Yes. Yes, yes. Definitely okay." 

Ryan pressed his face into the pit of Shane's neck, nuzzling his nose at the taller man's clavicle. He was now openly breathing hot air onto the skin at Shane's throat and nothing had ever felt better. But, Dear Lord, Shane Madej was not going to make it through this night if they carried on like this. 

Ryan crowded himself closer to Shane, wrapping his leg around Shane's hip snuggly and giving Shane a very good feel of how Ryan's crotch felt against his thigh. Shane moved his arm to rest near Ryan's waist, he touched the sliver of midriff available from his crumpled shirt. He felt Ryan nod against him. His hand dipped under the fabric and carried it up with him with his wrist, his fingers trailed around Ryan, splaying on the small of his back. He could feel where his spine dipped with his palm, the heat radiating off of that part of his body and couldn't help himself when Ryan sighed quietly into him. 

Shane moved his hand slowly, exploring Ryan's back just the way he'd wanted to for _so_ long. He felt any moles and blemishes with the pads of his fingertips, desperate to memorise the plane of his back as well as possible. He didn't want to waste this one in a lifetime opportunity. He dug in harshly with his fingernails then, confirming with himself that yes, Ryan is solid underneath and quite malleable. Shane was hit with the urge to hook his arms underneath Ryan's armpits and just hold him tightly to his chest, to capture every twitch in his muscles and every bit of heat being radiated off of his smaller body, but he saved it for next time. If there were to be a next time. 

Shane brought his hand to Ryan's ribs, pushing into the meat there to feel the ribs encasing his heart. Thank god for that.

Shane couldn't count the amount of times he had felt blessed that Ryan was a healthy man with a steady heartbeat. Especially during this moment, where Shane and Ryan were practically sharing the same glow of body heat. 

He took his chances and ducked his chin into his chest, nudging Ryan's forehead with his beak-of-a nose. He got the idea and bent his neck back, raising his head so that the tips of their noses brushed. Shane dived in first, tentatively resting his lips against Ryan's, they parted quickly and Shane thought the heavens were finally shining down on them both. There was a slight fear in the bottom of his belly that told him he was dreaming, or that Ryan was under influence of love induced drugs, but he ignored it.

Shane's head moved with their kisses, rocking back and forth to keep them as smooth as possible. It was wet and noisy and neither of them were the least bit embarrassed. Shane snuck his hand around to Ryan's chest and firmly pressed down with his palm to feel the main source of heat. He was rewarded with the knowledge that Ryan's heart was beating just as fast as his was. Shane accidentally smiled into a kiss and then felt, rather than heard, Ryan laugh into his mouth. It was absolute bliss and Shane couldn't ask for more.

He let his hand trail down the expanse of Ryan's front and end up brushing at the coarse hairs leading below Ryan's waistband, Shane cupped at the small jutted out part of his belly and relished in the way it tightened under his touch. Shane teased at the skin below the piece of clothing. Then Ryan backed away, detaching his lips from Shane's and pushing back with his hands on Shane's chest. 

The only thing Shane could identify with in that moment was pure panic. Now he'd really fucked up.

"I'm sorry— I should have asked before I—" Shane stumbled on his words, so unlike him. 

"No! No, Shane, it's okay. I liked it— I loved it. I just really need to pee still."

Shane waited for Ryan to say he was joking, to say that he'd made a mistake and he felt awkward and uncomfortable. But it never came. 

"Oh," Shane blew out air, "Thank fuck. I thought you were going to banish me from your life."

Ryan laughed quietly, Shane wished he could see his facial features. "No, you massive sasquatch. In all the time I've known you, that was possibly the best thing you've ever done."

"What? Make out with you?"

"Yes, exactly that. It's not every day that the person you're crushing on decides to blindly feel you up in a dark tent." 

"I didn't— wait, are you serious?" Silence, which probably meant more nodding. Maybe even some smiles. "I'm holding you accountable for me taking so long to kiss you. That's entirely your fault."

"What? That's not fair, why is it my fault?"

"Because you're unresponsive, oblivious and a massive tool. That's why."

"I'm not oblivious, I knew damn well you've wanted to fuck me for weeks."

Shane almost choked, "But, then, why?"

"It's so fun to play around with you. My favourite part was wearing my old shirts from college that were way too fucking tight, and then watching you lose your damn mind during recording. You were right, you are a pretty good actor, I don't think anyone else noticed you adjusting yourself under the table either." His tone was dripping with sarcasm but Shane was too happy to even give a shit about the teasing. "God, those were good times."

Shane couldn't help but start to laugh. "You're going to have to make up to me for all those times you've left me with blue balls."

Ryan broke down then, slapping Shane in pure joy. Shane wouldn't be surprised if there were complains in the morning about some man laughing far too loudly deep into the night. Then it died down, Shane was still smiling tightly when Ryan got out of Shane's sleeping bag entirely and sat up.

"Still gotta pee though," Ryan fished around on the floor to pick up his iPhone, it blinded him immediately with the light that was still on and he yelped, dropping it back down into his abandoned sleeping bag. "Jesus Christ, so bright."

There was a moment of silence between then and Shane decided to beat around the bush and say it first.

"I'm not going out there with you."

There was a drawn out groan, "I hate you."

Shane thinks, _knows_ , he means otherwise.


End file.
